“I’m a doctor. I can see inside your head. Shall I give you a shilling?”
“Yas.”
Grimshaw took a shilling from his pocket, flicked it into the air, and caught it. Then, with a laugh, he held it out. Nick tried to take it. Grimshaw deftly palmed it. Nick was confounded.
“It be gone. You be a wondersome man, you be.”
“Hallo! Here it is again—in your ear, by Jove!”
He exhibited the shilling to the excited boy, flicked it up again and allowed it to drop on the carpet.
“It’s yours, Nicky.”
Nick picked up the shilling, going down on his knees. As he rose to his feet Grimshaw stood up, taking him gently by the shoulder:
“I say, tell me something. Why did you set my lady’s house afire?”
Once more, inarticulate murmurs from those present might have broken the spell, but Nick was too absorbed in his possession of the shilling. He answered seriously: